


Eulogy

by LilyThistle



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: F/M, Game Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:26:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26495611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyThistle/pseuds/LilyThistle
Summary: “Come on,” Jane said, tapping the table. “Don’t get distracted. The quicker we start, the quicker I’m going to win.”“Yeah, right,” Lisbon said, sitting back down opposite Jane. “You think I didn’t use your absence to practice?”~Jane and Lisbon are trapped on a mountain during a storm and there's nothing else for them to do except to play poker.
Relationships: Patrick Jane/Teresa Lisbon
Comments: 51
Kudos: 145





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to COVID-19, I spent my summer holiday in the mountains this year, since the country where I live is basically 90% mountains. That's when I came up with this story about Jane and Lisbon playing poker because that's what I did for a week straight in August. 
> 
> There's going to be another chapter, and the explicit stuff doesn't happen until the end of Chapter 2, so anyone who's not into that kind of stuff can still read most of this fic. I'm currently on holiday again, working on the second chapter, but also climbing up mountains every day, thinking about writing a X-Filesque fic where Jane and Lisbon get lost in a forest on a mountain (definitely not inspired by true events).

The road was steep and winding, leading past dangerous drops and tall trees. The turns were narrow and sharp, and every time a car came down on the opposite side of the road, Jane had to steer to the right quickly to avoid a crash. All Lisbon could do was hold on for dear life, gripping her seat, her face pale, her eyes wide with fear. Once or twice it looked as if Jane would drive the car right over the edge and into the abyss that lay below. And Lisbon definitely didn’t feel like dying today.

It didn’t help that Jane was going much too fast. He didn’t know the road, he didn’t know which bends were followed by a steep climb, and he had no idea which group of trees hid an exit. Lisbon’s leg bounced more than once, stepping on an invisible brake. It was futile – he refused to slow down, even when she finally decided to complain.

“Jane,” was the only warning that left her mouth before he went around another bend, hardly slowing down.

A big truck came hurtling toward them, going faster still than they were. Jane didn’t even flinch.

“You need to relax, Lisbon,” he said, but his brow was furrowed in concentration. “I’m the safest driver you know.”

“First of all, no,” Lisbon contradicted him, her entire body tense at the sight of the next bend, “and second of all, there’s no need to go this fast. We’re not in a hurry.”

“First of all,” Jane started, mimicking her, “I’m not going fast. And second of all, the sun sets quickly in the mountains. We don’t have much time left today if we still want to get a good look at the crime scene.”

Lisbon let her gaze wander over the mountain range in trepidation. Green and grey blended together, pine trees and white rocks lined the road. Low clouds were darkening the sky, evoking a feeling of being trapped. Sometimes they met a group of hikers walking along the side of the road, and these were the only times Jane slowed down.

The road was climbing higher and higher, the trees were getting sparser and sparser, and yet they still hadn’t reached the camp site that was now a crime scene. At the airport, there had only been one rental car available, and Jane and Lisbon had been sent ahead by Fischer, who had stayed behind, hoping to be able to join them soon. Out of tiredness and resignation, Lisbon had agreed to let Jane drive and she was regretting it more with every second that went by and with every tall rock they passed and with every pick-up truck that sped past them much too close for Lisbon’s taste.

“You know what I’ve always wondered?” Jane asked suddenly.

“What?” Lisbon inquired through gritted teeth.

“Why does it bother you so much when I drive?”

That made her pause. “It doesn’t bother me. I’ve let you drive plenty of times.” She knew she didn’t need to justify herself, and yet she had felt the urge to add the second sentence. “But you’re unfamiliar with the road and yet you’re going faster than any local.”

Jane removed his left hand from the steering wheel and let his elbow hang out of the open window. “I’m not taking any risks if that’s what you’re implying.”

When he steered around another tight bend using just one hand, Lisbon was ready to jump out of the moving car then and there.

“And you should really learn to trust me. You know I’ve never had an accident in my life,” he added.

“Jane!” Lisbon shouted when the next bend revealed a truck right in front of them.

Jane slammed on the brakes and they came to a halt in the middle of the road.

“Sorry about that,” he mumbled and accelerated slowly.

“Just follow him,” Lisbon ordered. “We’re almost there anyway.”

But Jane had other plans. As soon as he saw a short, straight stretch of road ahead, he switched to the other lane, determined to overtake the truck.

“I hate you,” Lisbon screeched, as Jane forced the car to accelerate.

He had the biggest smile on his face as they got back into their own lane.

“That’s it, you’re never driving again.”

Jane signaled that he was about to turn left and steered the car onto the parking lot of a camp site. Lisbon’s hands were shaking as she undid her seatbelt. Jane shut off the engine and got out of the car, proceeding to stretch languidly. Lisbon got out of the car as well, a lot slower than Jane, feeling sick. The smells from the nearby campfire didn’t help soothe her rebellious stomach. She felt the urge to breathe in deeply, but couldn’t when she smelled smoke and meat cooking, and a thousand other smells she had never smelled before in the city.

There were several cars parked in the parking lot where they had stopped, but behind that, beneath a group of trees, stood several tents, one bigger than the other, grey and green in color. Most of them had a fire pit out front, often next to small wooden tables. Children ran up and down between the tents, screaming happily, chasing each other, while a dog barked somewhere close by. The whole scene looked like something out of a travel brochure.

The only thing that was out of place in this idyllic environment was the police car and the crime scene tape. Behind it stood a police officer, a park ranger, and a man who looked like he owned the camp site. He was dressed in sensible clothes, a ranger’s hat, and heavy boots. Half his face was covered by a grey beard, and a shotgun rested on his left arm. Confidently, Lisbon walked toward the small group, her FBI badge ready in her right hand, while Jane followed her slowly, looking around while he went, his arms folded behind his back.

The son of an important Texan tycoon had been found shot dead in his tent. No one had heard anything, not even his wife, who had slept next to him. He had been alive and well when he had gone to bed and she had woken up next to his corpse the following morning. His father demanded that the case be solved immediately, and Jane heeded his wish by looking around once, talking to the park ranger and the wife and two other campers before declaring that the wife had shot her husband, using the shotgun the owner of the camp site was carrying. When Lisbon asked him to give her the motive, or just a simple explanation of how he had come to this conclusion, his response simply was, “Ockham's razor”.

“You can’t just make accusations like that and then walk away,” Lisbon chided him, as she followed him back to the car.

“Case closed,” Jane shrugged. “I thought you’d be happy to get back so soon.”

“I keep telling you, this is not how we do our jobs,” Lisbon reprimanded him. “We talk to people, recreate a timeline, gather forensic evidence, and then we make an arrest based on that data.”

“Come on, Lisbon,” Jane sighed. “This case is so straightforward even you could solve it.”

It sounded unnecessarily mean but Jane realized this too late. Lisbon flinched, but didn’t reply.

“Lisbon, I’m sorry,” he said quickly.

Lisbon, who didn’t feel like talking about it, extended her hand, and Jane handed her the car key without any resistance. Lisbon unlocked the car and was in the process of climbing inside when she saw the police officer rushing toward them. She threw an accusing look in Jane’s direction, but the man wanted to talk to her.

“Are y’all planning on going back down the mountain?” he asked in a thick Louisianan accent that sounded out of place in the middle of the Californian mountains.

“Is there anything more you need from us?” Lisbon noted with satisfaction.

The man pointed at the sky behind Lisbon. When she turned around, she saw the clouds that had depressed her earlier had darkened.

“There’s a storm coming, ma’am,” the man answered.

“Agent,” Lisbon corrected him.

“Sorry, agent.” The man nodded at the sky again. “I’d advise against going back down the mountain. The road is dangerous enough when it’s dry but only locals should drive when it’s raining.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Lisbon saw Jane flinch. “And what do you suggest we should do? We can’t very well stay here,” she pointed out.

“There are some holiday cabins up the road,” the man replied. “If you’re lucky, they still have one available.”

“And if not?”

The man just shrugged.

Lisbon sighed but thanked him and got into the car. Jane was already waiting for her.

“A cabin?” he asked. “Sounds like fun.”

Lisbon started the car. She was still angry with him for what he had said to her, but she tried not to let her feelings get the better of her. Instead, she slowly backed out of the parking lot and continued to follow the road up the mountain. Next to her, Jane settled into a comfortable position and looked out the window at the passing trees, mountain roads, and rock formations.

This was the first time they were together in a car like this since Jane had come back from where he had been hiding these last two years. Before he had left California – left her – they had spent countless hours like this, Lisbon sitting behind the wheel, Jane stretched out next to her, talking about anything and everything. Now that they were like this again, she couldn’t help but lament all they had lost, all the things that had changed, everything she had missed and still missed about him. A selfish part of her, one she even managed to hide from Jane, would bring back Red John if it meant it would bring back the Jane who had left her behind two years ago – her Jane.

Trying to resurrect those times was impossible, every attempt was futile, she knew that, but she wanted to try. She wanted to stop feeling hurt and angry and resentful toward Jane. She wanted to try and bring back a part of what they had lost. Even if it meant letting him in again, something she was dreading.

“It had to have been the wife because she didn’t wake up when her husband was shot,” she said, stepping onto the gas as they were going up a straight stretch of road. “And he had pine needles in his hair. He wasn’t shot in the tent, which means she had help.”

“And the motive?” Jane asked without looking at her.

“Money,” Lisbon answered. No, that wasn’t it. “Jealousy.”

“Bingo,” was Jane’s reply.

“I did very well without you patronizing me all the time.” She meant for it to sound bitter, but he refused to let her determine the tone of the conversation.

“So you know where we’re going?” he asked instead as she chose the left road at a junction.

“No,” she answered with a shrug. “But you also don’t have any idea, so shut up.”

They were so high up in the mountains now that they had passed the tree line. Up here, the clouds looked even more daunting. The sky was a deep blue, the clouds were almost black, and Lisbon could smell the oncoming rain. She hoped she had made the right choice back at the junction, but she was too proud to ask Jane to check the GPS. She knew he was watching her, glancing at her from time to time, but as long as she wasn’t getting a heartfelt apology from him, she would continue to give him the cold shoulder.

“There,” he said suddenly, pointing at a sign ahead of them.

Lisbon felt relieved as she turned right onto a forest road that wound its way around a small elevation. She was going slowly now, listening to the pebbles hitting the underside of the rental car, hoping it wouldn’t cause any damage. But the road didn’t continue for long and they soon arrived at a handful of cabins surrounding a small lake.

To Lisbon, it looked bleak. There was nothing near this place apart from bare rocks. She couldn’t even spot a patch of green. But the owners of the cars filling the parking lot almost to the last spot seemed to disagree with her. Once she had found an empty space and had gotten out of the car, she realized how cold it was up here. The wind was picking up and the smell of rain couldn’t be ignored anymore. She shivered.

“It must be beautiful up here at night,” Jane said suddenly, staring up at the sky. “I bet you can even see the Milky Way.”

“Hm,” Lisbon made, a sound between acknowledgement and agreement.

This time, Jane took the lead, walking toward the biggest cabin. Lisbon followed him, another shiver running down her spine as she felt the first drops of rain on her skin. She would never admit it, but the weather was making her nervous. The thought of being trapped up here in a storm unnerved her. There was nothing to give her shelter, not even a forest. And all she had for company was a man who made her feel conflicting emotions every time she looked at him.

Jane opened the door to the cabin and held it open for her. He had used to do this all the time when they had still worked at the CBI, and she had taken it for granted, hadn’t even noticed it most of the time. Now her gaze wandered to his right hand resting on the door handle. She knew very well what came next: his left hand on the small of her back. She craved and dreaded this touch at the same time. It didn’t come, and she didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

Another man was waiting for them behind the reception desk and to Lisbon he looked like the park ranger. Maybe they were related. Or her powers of observation were slipping.

She opened with, “We need a cabin,” without so much as a “hello”.

If the man was taken aback by her harsh attitude, he didn’t let it show. “For how long?” he asked, opening a leather-bound book that was lying on the counter in front of him.

“One night,” Lisbon answered.

“Short trip, is it?” the man commented.

“Yes,” Jane answered with one of his winning smiles.

“You’re lucky,” the man told them, checking his records. “We still have one cabin available. Minimum rental period is two nights.”

“Fine,” Lisbon agreed, pulling out her wallet.

The man copied down her name, telephone number, and address, then accepted her credit card, and finally handed her a hiking map of the surrounding area. Out of courtesy, Lisbon accepted it.

“You’re in Cabin 7,” the man explained. “It’s just outside to your left. We serve breakfast from seven to ten.”

“Thank you,” Jane and Lisbon said in unison.

The rain had increased, a strong wind had joined it. Lisbon walked back to the car to get their overnight bags out of the trunk, while Jane went ahead to look at the cabin. Once Lisbon had joined him, the wind was howling, whipping across the bare rocks. But as soon as the cabin door shut behind her, the sounds of nature were cancelled out by an inner voice telling her to get out of there as fast as possible.

The cabin itself was medium-sized; it had a living room area that came with a small kitchen, and a bedroom with two queen-sized beds. The walls and the ceiling and the floor were solid wood, and everything smelled of forest and nature. Lisbon half-expected to find a grizzly bear sleeping in her bed.

But they were alone – that’s why she wanted to run. Somehow, it hadn’t occurred to her that she would have to spend at least twelve hours in Jane’s company if she didn’t want to sleep in the car. She pulled her phone out of her pocket only to discover that she didn’t have reception. There wasn’t even the possibility of them being interrupted by a telephone call.

Jane looked as uncomfortable as she felt, and it surprised her. He had no reason to; she wouldn’t make his life miserable. She wouldn’t go to great lengths to push him away and shut him out. And yet he stood there, close to the kitchen, his arms crossed in front of his chest, waiting for her to make the next move.

Avoiding Jane’s gaze, Lisbon walked past him into the bedroom and dropped their bags on the floor. Then she gathered her strength, ran her hand through her hair, and faced her biggest insecurity.

“I’m hungry,” she told him, walking back into the living room. “What do you want to do for dinner?”

Jane pulled a face. “We don’t have much of a choice.”

“I can go back to the reception and ask if they serve dinner, too.”

Jane turned around to glance out of the window. “I wouldn’t do that.”

The rain was coming down hard, the moist air looked foggy, and the cabins around them were dark shapes, nothing more. It would be the sensible thing to wait a while for the weather to change.

Jane nodded at a small fireplace. “I’m going to get a fire started,” he said.

Lisbon dropped into a chair behind the dinner table and drew up her legs, hugging them. She watched as Jane busied himself with a pile of wood next to the fireplace, then tried to light it (a few futile attempts) before adding some paper he found in a drawer in the kitchen. Once he had managed to get a fire going, he raked through the wood for a while with a poker before turning around to face Lisbon and plunging into a serious conversation without so much as a warning.

“I’m very sorry for what I said earlier, Lisbon. Upsetting you wasn’t my intention. I just wanted to tease you, but I’m out of practice. There’s really no excuse for what I said.”

Lisbon, caught off-guard by his words, shrugged. “It’s fine.”

“I hope so,” Jane said seriously. Then he took two steps toward her but changed his mind and stopped awkwardly in the middle of the room. “I didn’t think it would be like this.”

Lisbon had no idea if he was talking about the case or the situation between them or his return, so she asked, “Like what?”

But he had exhausted his need to let her in for the evening, so he just shrugged.

“Come on, Jane,” she said, frustration in her voice. “Either we’re talking about this or …” But she didn’t know how to finish the sentence, and she also didn’t know if she really wanted to talk.

Jane shook his head slowly. “Not now,” he said quietly.

“A lot of things changed,” was Lisbon’s reply, “but you’re still a selfish bastard.”

Both of them paused.

Rain.

Wind.

Breathing.

“You’re right.”

It wasn’t the answer Lisbon had expected to get after an eternity of silence. “I am,” she agreed.

“And I’m sorry about that,” he continued, “I will try to do better, just not tonight.”

“Why not?” Lisbon asked. “We’re alone on a mountain, trapped in a cabin with nowhere to go. There is no better time to talk about this than now.”

“I’m not ready.” An admission like this, coming from him, sounded weird, out of character. Those two years away from everything, away from her, really had changed him. “I will talk about it, just not now. I need you to be patient a little while longer.”

“It’s a lot to ask,” Lisbon pointed out.

“I know,” Jane agreed. “I’m asking you as a friend. But I’ll understand if you say no.”

Lisbon knew he was only calling her his friend because he wanted to manipulate her into waiting for him. She knew the most sensible thing to do in this situation was to tell him to go fuck himself. But she couldn’t. Because when he said, _I’m asking you as a friend_ a warm, tingling sensation spread from her chest to her limbs and cancelled out all other feelings.

She stopped hugging her legs to her chest and put her feet on the floor. “Make me an offer.”

Jane took a step back. “How do you mean?”

“I’ll wait,” Lisbon elaborated, “just give me something in return.”

At hearing this, Jane’s face lit up. He clapped his hands together and beamed at her. “I know just the thing.”

He walked over to a small cabinet near the fireplace, crouched down, and opened it. When he stood up again, he had a small, silver briefcase in his hands.

“I can offer you one thing,” he said, walking across the room to join her at the dinner table. “I might not be what you want from me tonight, but we can pretend the last two years didn’t happen.”

“How are you going to do that? By hypnotizing me?” Lisbon asked wearily.

“You’re much too strong-willed to forget two entire years, even when you’re under hypnosis,” Jane said with a small laugh. “And I said we were going to _pretend_.”

He opened the briefcase to reveal cards and poker chips. Lisbon couldn’t help but smile.

“All right,” she agreed.

Jane raised an eyebrow at her.

“Were you expecting me to say no?” she asked.

“Yes,” he replied.

“Well, we don’t have anything better to do,” Lisbon said with a shrug. “And I need something to distract me from thinking about food.”

“Glad to be of service,” Jane said with a smile, and it looked so careful Lisbon had to stare at him, unable to tear his eyes away. “What?” Jane asked.

“Nothing,” Lisbon replied with a small shake of her head. “Let’s have some music.”

She stood up and walked to the kitchen to a small radio that was standing next to the stove. But the only station it was able to receive was a country and western station, so she switched it off with a quiet, “Never mind.”

“Come on,” Jane said, tapping the table. “Don’t get distracted. The quicker we start, the quicker I’m going to win.”

“Yeah, right,” Lisbon said, sitting back down opposite Jane. “You think I didn’t use your absence to practice?”

She watched as Jane shuffled the cards; he ignored her comment apart from a small huff. The tingling sensation in the pit of her stomach telling her she was actually excited for this was easily ignored. She also knew this was futile – they could never go back to the way it had been between them, no matter how hard they tried to pretend. But she appreciated the gesture. To busy herself, she took a handful of chips out of the suitcase and distributed them between herself and Jane.

Jane put the cards into a neat pile before standing up and walking to the kitchen, just as Lisbon had done two minutes earlier. “Do you want something to drink?” he asked.

“Now who’s stalling?” Lisbon asked, knowing full well there wasn’t anything to drink besides water.

Jane opened a few cupboards and glanced inside, until he finally came up with a half-empty bottle of bourbon.

“I’m not drinking that,” Lisbon said immediately.

Jane unscrewed the bottle and sniffed. “Smells fine to me,” he declared.

He filled two glasses while Lisbon came to the decision that it was no use arguing with him. His absence had also helped her face his antics with resignation, mostly because she had expected she would never have to deal with them again.

Then he was back at the table opposite her, watching her intently as she took a sip out of her glass. Her hand shook as she put it back down but because his eyes were glued to hers, she hoped he hadn’t noticed. Jane picked up the cards and dealt out two each, then picked up his and glanced at them. Lisbon did the same.

Jane watched her intently, not even blinking once, and she had forgotten what it felt like to be at his mercy like this. She had forgotten what it felt like not to stand a chance. But those two years had changed her, him coming back like that had changed her, and she was more guarded now, better at hiding feelings and emotions. She could win this by bluffing, she knew she could.

She dropped a five-dollar chip in the middle of the table.

Jane raised her bet to ten.

With a sigh, she added another five dollars.

When Jane placed three face-up cards between them, he didn’t even look at the table or his hands, just at Lisbon, always at Lisbon. Under different circumstances, it would have made her feel uncomfortable, but there was something so intimate and secluded about this setting that she knew whatever would happen between them tonight would stay on this mountain. And, as opposed to Jane, she was actually paying attention to the cards.

She had a pair now, so she added another five dollars to the pot. Jane did too.

The next two cards didn’t change Lisbon’s hand, but they apparently changed Jane’s because he pushed half of his chips into the middle of the table. Lisbon went along with it, refusing to fold during the first round.

Her gut feeling had been right; Jane was bluffing. He didn’t have anything to show for his bet, and Lisbon won the pot.

“If you’re letting me win,” she told him. A warning.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he assured her. “Just testing a few things.”

“And what’s that?”

“I wanted to see if you can tell when I’m bluffing,” he answered with a wink. “You can’t.”

His cockiness, which had so often driven her up the wall, was suddenly alluring to her. Maybe because she had decided that nothing that would happen between them tonight would matter, maybe because she wanted it to matter. But what was the point of holding back her feelings now?

Lisbon took the cards from him with a glare and shuffled them. Then Jane made his first move and she followed his lead, and they continued like this until Lisbon dropped her one fifty-dollar chip into the middle and Jane paused.

“I know you’re bluffing,” he told her.

She shook her head. “You’re just scared to find out if I am.”

He smirked. “Lisbon, I know you well enough.”

But he looked uncertain, and it made her feel so proud she almost revealed the truth. Yes, she was bluffing, but she wanted to get back at him.

Jane won that round easily with a mediocre hand, and while he was shuffling the cards, Lisbon refilled their glasses. Jane toasted her silently, then emptied the glass, and Lisbon mirrored him, feeling how the alcohol in her otherwise empty stomach made her want things she shouldn’t want.

It wasn’t like it had been between them before he had left. Before that, she would have never allowed herself to stare at his hands so unabashedly, to smile at him when he noticed her gaze, to blush when he winked at her.

 _It doesn’t matter_ , she told herself. _Whatever happens tonight, we won’t talk about it in the morning_.

Lisbon knew immediately when she picked up her cards that she wouldn’t win this round. But she felt giddy with excitement at being able to fool Jane, so she let herself be guided by emotion rather than by rationality. She started low, but as the round progressed, she got braver until she went all in.

Jane huffed, unimpressed. “See? I know you’re bluffing.”

“Wanna bet?” Lisbon asked, biting her lip.

“That’s what I’m doing,” he said, raising his bet to match hers.

“You’re playing it safe,” Lisbon told him. Then she pulled the car keys out of her jacket pocket. “If you win,” she said slowly, “I’m letting you drive tomorrow.”

“Fool me once,” Jane said with a smile that was probably meant to be smug but looked dangerous to Lisbon. She shifted in her chair.

Jane won. Lisbon didn’t have anything, and he had a very good hand. But now she had confirmation he could tell when she was bluffing.

“What gave it away?” she asked, standing up to put away the glasses.

“You bite your lip,” Jane told her, pocketing the car keys. “And you’re drunk and not thinking straight.”

It sounded like a challenge; one Lisbon was only too willing to accept.

“All right, let’s go again,” she decided.

Jane snorted. “Only if we’ll make this more interesting.”

Lisbon, bending over the sink, a dripping wet shot glass in her hand, swallowed. “We’re not playing strip poker.”


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Jane,” she started to say, but before she could finish the sentence, before she could even make up her mind what to say to him, he had pushed himself out of his chair and leaned across the table to capture her chin between his thumb and forefinger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, the thing is ... I lied. I said there would only be two parts but I've been writing Part 2 all week and it keeps getting longer and longer, so I've decided to post it in three parts instead. (This is starting to become a pattern.)
> 
> I'm so sorry for the delay, I'm sorry for keeping you guys waiting, but I promise you won't have to wait for Part 3 for another five weeks.

A short laugh. “What am I? Twelve?”

Lisbon sighed with relief. So there were things she wasn’t prepared to do, lines she wasn’t yet prepared to cross. Good to know.

“I’m talking about real money,” Jane went on.

Another sigh of relief. She could do that. She was good at poker when the stakes were high.

And suddenly, they were evenly matched. They took turns winning, as if they had realized it was serious. The light-heartedness was gone, they were playing with stubborn determination. Lisbon tried to ignore Jane as best as she could, but it was hard when he was the only other player. Her mistake last time had been to let herself be lured into letting her feelings get the better of her, and she wouldn’t make that mistake again.

Jane had come to a similar decision. He didn’t tease her anymore – instead, he focused on the game, confining sounds he made to huffs and grunts. And as Lisbon felt her tipsiness dissipate, her determination to get the better of Jane grew stronger.

Then they reached the eighth round of the evening. Lisbon had won the previous one and Jane the one before that, but he had less money than she had, and when she kept raising the bet, he struggled to match her, so he tried to irritate her.

“You’re bluffing again.”

“Am not,” she told him. She really wasn’t, she would win this round with a straight flush, she was sure of it. It wasn’t possible for Jane to have anything higher.

“All right,” Jane said with a nod. Then he went all in.

Lisbon opened her mouth to say something, but Jane raised a hand.

“If you win … which I doubt,” he added after brief contemplation, “we’ll call it a night. But if you lose … you’ll have to kiss me.” He glanced up at her, and she could see he was serious.

Both of them paused.

Rain.

Wind.

Breathing.

“All right,” Lisbon agreed, knowing she was on the safe side.

Jane was impossible to read. She knew he was serious about the kiss, but when he showed her his hand and revealed a royal flush, it was impossible to tell what he was thinking.

“That’s impossible,” Lisbon breathed. Then she glared at Jane. “You’re cheating.”

He raised both his hands, a gesture to proclaim his innocence. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“There is no way,” Lisbon insisted. “The odds are –”

“I know about the odds,” Jane said with a nod.

He collected the money and Lisbon bit her lip but stopped immediately when she remembered what Jane had said earlier. The best way to play this was to keep her cool and act as if Jane’s request wasn’t a big deal, although every fiber in her body screamed that it was.

She stood up and walked around the table to Jane, who was waiting for her with a neutral expression and relaxed body language, the polar opposite to how she felt. His hands were resting in his lap, his legs were slightly spread, and she could see his chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm. When she took a deep breath, however, he shook his head.

“Lisbon, you don’t have to do it,” he said. “I was joking.”

“No, you weren’t,” Lisbon contradicted him. 

And she was too stubborn to back down now.

She was close to him, so close he had to raise his head to look at her. Her right hand was on the backrest of his chair, her left balled into a fist at her side. Then she leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, feeling like the young, inexperienced teenage girl she’d once been. But that feeling disappeared quickly when she felt his stubble against her lips, igniting in her a desire to feel it elsewhere, to have his cheek pressed against her thigh, to have him leave marks on the skin there, to feel him burn himself into her, to mark her, and it shocked her so much she stumbled backwards.

“Lisbon?” His voice was full of concern, but there was also a note of something else.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, and hurried to sit back down opposite him. “Lost my balance there.”

“Ah,” he made with a small nod, then added, “Another round?”

“Sure,” she agreed.

“But no more money,” Jane added. “I want us to challenge each other.”

Lisbon swallowed. “How do you mean?”

“Before you say anything, I don’t want us to play strip poker.” He said it fast; there was a note of indecisiveness in there. “I want us to challenge each other. For example, I could say, ‘If I win, I want you to give me another kiss,’ and you could say, ‘If I win, I want you to drive through the storm to get us something to eat’.”

Lisbon bit her lip again, unable to stop herself. “I’m not sure,” she replied. She couldn’t risk getting close to Jane again like that, afraid of rekindling what she had felt only moments ago.

“Scared of losing, are you?”

But when he asked her this, she realized she didn’t have to have her lips pressed against his cheek for her to want him. She knew she should walk away while she still could, but the tingling sensation in the pit of her stomach made it impossible for her to think straight. And she didn’t want to. She wanted to prove Jane wrong, prove to him she could stand her ground. And she wanted to find out where this would lead, find out how far they were willing to go.

“All right,” she finally agreed.

Jane’s face lit up with something between triumph and surprise.

“You need to stop doing that.”

“Doing what?” he asked.

“You always look surprised when I agree to go along with one of your ideas,” Lisbon pointed out.

“I find it surprising; it’s as simple as that,” Jane retorted. “You’re not like the Teresa Lisbon I remember.”

“You’re exactly like the Patrick Jane I remember,” was Lisbon’s reply.

“Is that a good thing?”

They locked eyes and Lisbon felt heat creep back into her face. Jane was waiting for an answer she couldn’t give him because she didn’t know herself. But his gaze on her was enough to make her forget the question anyway, and her thoughts went back to the kiss she had given him. It had been innocent enough, but it had stirred something inside her, awakened something she hadn’t reckoned with, and she had no idea where it would lead, but she was willing to find out.

“I don’t know,” she answered finally, “but I want to find out.”

Jane raised an eyebrow at her and made, “Huh”. That was all. But when he dealt the cards, his hands were shaking slightly. Lisbon noticed because she couldn’t tear her eyes away from them.

“So …,” he said slowly once the deck of cards was back on the table, “if I win, you have to answer three questions honestly.”

“Okay,” Lisbon agreed, “and if I win you have to kiss me.”

Jane’s eyes shot up from his cards to Lisbon’s face. “We just did that.”

Lisbon, who had surprised herself with the request, tried to play it cool, and shrugged. “So?” Then she added, “Unless you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s not … I don’t …”

Lisbon had never seen Jane flustered like that, and she found it very endearing. “You told me if I don’t want to kiss you, I don’t have to,” she said, trying to ignore the pang of disappointment she felt. “The same goes for you.”

“Let’s play and see,” Jane concluded the discussion.

Lisbon had no idea what to make of this, but she followed Jane’s lead. Then she won, surprising herself as well as Jane, and found herself wishing she had lost.

“Jane,” she started to say, but before she could finish the sentence, before she could even make up her mind what to say to him, he had pushed himself out of his chair and leaned across the table to capture her chin between his thumb and forefinger.

His lips were soft, much softer than his cheek, and as he pressed them against the corner of her mouth, she held her breath, fighting down the urge to kiss him back, instantly craving more. So it hadn’t just been a coincidence earlier; kissing him and being kissed by him had a powerful effect on her, and evoked feelings she hadn’t felt in a long time. All this time, his fingers were on her chin, keeping her in place, as if he was scared she would move away from him, but instead she pressed herself closer, unable to control what her body was doing. After all, she had wanted him to kiss her. 

But it was over as quickly as it had begun, and even though she could still feel his lips against the corner of her mouth, he was back in his chair, a slight flush on his cheeks. She guessed she didn’t look much better. She cleared her throat, determined not to make this situation awkward. She collected the cards and started shuffling the deck, all the while only too aware that Jane was suddenly looking anywhere but directly at her.

“All right,” she said, but her voice was husky, so she cleared her throat, and repeated the two words. “All right, if I win, I want you to get us something to drink.”

“And I still want you to answer three questions honestly.” His voice sounded completely normal.

“Can we do that?” Lisbon asked. “Can we ask the same thing twice?”

Jane chuckled. “It’s a made-up game. We can decide on the rules.”

As soon as Lisbon glanced at her two cards, she could see she wasn’t going to win this, so she folded. She was too curious to find out what Jane’s three questions were to draw this out.

“Don’t you want to try, at least?” Jane complained when Lisbon put her cards on the table and pushed them away.

“Is that one of your three questions?” she teased.

“No!” he hurried to say. A short pause. He glanced at her, then back down at the table. “But you have to promise to answer honestly.”

She had never seen him this unsure, and it threw her off. “Of course,” she assured him.

“Are you drunk?” he asked her.

It wasn’t what she had expected. “Is that one of your questions?”

“Yes,” he nodded.

“Oh …,” Lisbon hesitated. “No, not really.”

Jane made, “Huh,” then asked, “How far are you willing to go?”

This was more along the lines of what Lisbon had expected, but she blushed, nevertheless. “Are you asking about this game?”

“Yes, if that’s what you want,” was his less than helpful answer.

Lisbon sighed thoughtfully. “I don’t know. I’m going along with it, and that’s all I can do at the moment. I guess we’ll only find out once we get there.”

“You can tell me nothing more specific than that?” Jane pressed.

“If you’re talking about the kiss, that was fine,” Lisbon assured him. “I … enjoyed that, a lot.”

She wasn’t sure if it was the lighting, the flickering shadows coming from the fire that was still burning, or if she really saw Jane swallow hard.

“What’s the third question?” she asked.

“Is there a line I shouldn’t cross?”

Lisbon laughed. “It’s the same question as the one before.”

“No,” Jane contradicted her. “The previous one was about you; this one is about me.”

Lisbon thought about this, thought about how she had felt when she had kissed Jane, thought about the longing it had awakened in her, and then realized how much she craved whatever it was that Jane was willing to offer.

“No,” she answered truthfully. “And don’t you dare give me a surprised look again.”

Jane beamed at her. “Not surprised, just … glad.”

“Also, don’t look so proud,” Lisbon said, but couldn’t help but smile as well. “It’s your turn to deal.”

Jane shuffled the cards while saying, “If I win, I want you to give me another kiss.”

His words evoked the by now well-known tingling sensation in the pit of Lisbon’s stomach. “And if I win,” she said slowly, “I get to ask a question _you_ have to answer truthfully for a change.”

“Just one?” He was dealing the cards.

“I don’t need more.”

“Suit yourself,” he said with a shrug.

Again, Lisbon could see there was no chance she would win this round, but she decided to prolong this, to tease Jane, for her benefit as well as his. They were still using poker chips, even though they had lost their meaning in this game, and Lisbon found it extremely satisfying to keep raising her bet because Jane looked at her with deep confusion. Even when she bit her lip on purpose, he did nothing more than to shift in his seat.

When Jane won, Lisbon could see the tension leave his shoulders.

“You had me there for a minute,” he said with a small chuckle.

“I thought you could tell when I was bluffing.”

“I thought so, too.” He furrowed his brow. Then he apparently remembered what a victory would get him, and he looked at Lisbon, his eyes dark. “I want a real kiss this time.”

She laughed airily. “You don’t get to decide that. You said you wanted a _kiss_ – the word _real_ wasn’t part of that deal.”

“You enjoy teasing me, don’t you?” It sounded flirtier than it had any right to.

Lisbon asked herself when they had started acting like this around each other, but found she was unable to pin down the exact moment. It had been a gradual development, and she was glad it didn’t feel forced or awkward, just … natural. She stood up slowly, not trusting her legs entirely, and made her way over to Jane’s side of the table again. He was waiting for her like he had earlier: His body language was relaxed, his hands were resting in his lap, his legs were spread slightly (maybe a bit wider than before, but Lisbon couldn’t tell if that was just wishful thinking on her part). The only thing that was different was the look on his face – it wasn’t neutral, it was smug.

Lisbon leaned down again, her hand clasping the backrest of Jane’s chair tightly, and stopped right before her lips were about to touch his. She wasn’t unsure anymore; she knew exactly what she wanted, and she knew how to get it. She could feel Jane’s breath ghosting over her face, and she knew he wasn’t as calm as he would have liked to be. She wasn’t either, but she also wasn’t the one who kept claiming she was in full control of her body.

Then she dipped her head, and instead of giving him the kiss he so desperately wanted, she pressed her lips against his neck, and was rewarded with a small gasp. She did it again, relishing the rush of adrenaline it gave her, basking in the feeling of being the one in control. Had she known she had this effect on him, she would have started doing this years ago.

A third kiss was followed by a small nip at his skin, and this time he gasped loudly, and his left hand shot up to grab her right arm, but then he thought better of it and lowered it again. Lisbon straightened her back.

“Was that a real kiss?” she asked, before her breath was taken away by the look on Jane’s face.

His pupils were dilated, so his eyes looked almost black, and he was staring at her in such wonder that she had to look away. Her face was burning, and she realized she had gone too far. Yes, they had been flirting. Yes, they had been teasing each other. But it had all been part of the game. Jane didn’t want this, he didn’t want her, that was a ridiculous idea, a silly dewy-eyed hope.

She turned away. “I’m sorry. We should stop.”

Jane grabbed her wrist tightly and pulled her back. “Please, Lisbon,” he said softly. “Look at me.”

She did as he asked, even though it took her all her willpower not to tear herself loose and run away.

“You did nothing wrong,” Jane continued in a firm tone of voice. “It was what I asked you for; it was what I wanted. So please, sit back down.”

 _It was what I wanted_.

Relief washed over Lisbon. “I just wasn’t sure –,” she started.

Jane smirked. “Please, I can handle a few small kisses.”

“Oh?” Lisbon made and sat down in her chair again. “Are you saying I don’t kiss well?”

He shrugged. “I’ve had better.”

She picked up a chip and tossed it at him. He dodged it.

“All right,” she said then, straightening her back. “I still insist on asking you a question. So if I win, you have to be honest with me.”

“And if I win, you’re going to take off your jacket.” He didn’t blink when he said it, but there was a slight hitch in his voice.

“I thought we weren’t playing strip poker,” Lisbon reminded him.

“We’re not,” Jane replied. “If we were, I would’ve made it more interesting.”

Lisbon thought he tried to act more nonchalantly than he was, but she kept that thought to herself. Instead, she focused on the game, determined to win this round. And she did, to her great satisfaction.

“What’s your question?” he asked, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“How far are _you_ willing to go?” Lisbon asked, watching him carefully.

“That depends,” Jane answered.

“On what?”

“On you.”

Lisbon had no idea what to make of this answer. “Care to elaborate?”

“I want to go as far as you are willing to go,” Jane explained. “And since you don’t know how far that is yet, I’m perfectly happy to see where this is going.”

“I might be getting closer to an answer,” Lisbon told him while taking off her jacket.

Jane raised an eyebrow at her.

“What? I’m hot,” she said with a shrug. “But should I win the next round, I want you to take off _your_ jacket.”

Jane huffed. “Don’t copy me.”

“Is that what you want should you win?”

“No!” Jane said quickly.

“Too late,” she teased. “It’s what you’re going to get.”

Jane pouted. “You’re cruel, you know that?”

“Just because you don’t get your way for once …”

“Oh, I’m not complaining.”

The way his gaze wandered up her body to her neck made her shiver. She quickly ran her hands over her arms to hide the goosebumps.

Lisbon found it increasingly difficult to focus on the game, especially with Jane’s eyes on her. There were so many questions, so many ideas and worries taking up her thoughts that she frequently forgot what cards she was holding. She had tried asking Jane what was going on, but he had handed the question back to her, and she still had no idea how to answer it. She couldn’t deny there was _something_ there between them, she couldn’t deny it went beyond friends teasing each other, but she had no idea how they had gotten to this point, especially after she had felt frustrated and angry with Jane most of the time since his return. All she knew was where she wanted it to end, and that realization was new and exciting yet ancient and timeworn all at once.

And by the look of it, Jane wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea either. Because when she won, despite her distracting thoughts, he hurried to comply with her request and tossed his jacket onto an empty chair. Then he proceeded to roll up his sleeves, and Lisbon decided to put a stop to this.

“That would have been my next request …,” she said slowly, intentionally not looking at Jane directly.

“Come on, Lisbon, that’s not really a challenge,” Jane pointed out.

She decided then and there to find an answer to two questions: How far was she willing to go? And how far was Jane willing to go? Because she couldn’t take a second longer of this; this dance they were dancing around each other was driving her crazy and she needed to put a stop to it.

She took a deep breath. “I challenge you to seduce me.”

Jane’s eyes darkened and she knew she had made the right choice. He swallowed hard, and this time there was no doubt about the action. No trick of light that could explain it. Lisbon wondered what he saw when he looked at her, what emotions her face displayed, because she couldn’t make up her mind about how to feel. But whatever it was, whatever he read there, seemed to satisfy him, because he licked his lips, then leaned back with an arrogant grin, and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“All right,” he agreed, “and I challenge you to kiss me, but for real this time.”

Lisbon almost snorted with laughter, but she managed to hold back. It would have ruined the mood, and she wanted to preserve it for as long as she could. “It’s the same as mine,” she pointed out.

“Oh?” Jane raised an eyebrow at her. “Are you such a good kisser?”

They should have started this years ago, she thought. They had wasted so much time, and for what? Their lives weren’t less dangerous now, even with Red John dead. They were still dealing with dangerous criminals on a daily basis, and any one of them could set his mind on hurting or killing one of them. But this, this made it all worth it. Even if they never spoke of it again.

Whatever happened tonight, whatever happened tomorrow morning and on the days afterwards, Lisbon would cherish this night forever, would always remember the way they had flirted with each other, knowing full well what they were doing. What surprised Lisbon the most was how natural it felt, and that was why she couldn’t understand why they hadn’t done this before.

But right at this moment, she also didn’t care.

“You’ll find out if you win,” she told him.

But when Lisbon had dealt him his cards, he didn’t touch them. “I’ll leave that up to fate,” he said when she looked at him curiously.

“That doesn’t sound like you,” Lisbon pointed out, but also didn’t pick up her own cards to look at them.

“I’m going to get what I want either way,” he said with a shrug, but his hands were shaking as he placed his bet. “And it’s not as if I could change the cards.”

“Are you saying you’re not going to try to cheat?” Lisbon asked him, placing her bet.

“Would you want me to?” he asked.

For a moment, Lisbon considered her options. If she won, he would seduce her. And she would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about that, not just this evening, but for quite some time now, years, in fact. And if she lost, she would get to kiss him. Jane was right – whatever happened, there was no losing.

She took a deep breath and leaned back. “What do _you_ want, Jane?” They had spent so much time talking about her, it was time to turn the attention on him.

While she slowly placed the first three cards on the table between them, Jane thought about her question. She could see the cogs turning in his head while he thought about what answer to give her. There was no need for him to answer her, really, because she was sure she knew it already, but she wanted him to confirm it, nevertheless. After all, there would be nothing more embarrassing than her misreading his intentions.

“Isn’t that obvious?” he said finally.

“Is it?” she asked teasingly.

“Keep dealing and maybe you’ll find out,” he teased her in return, a cocky smile on his face.

God, she didn’t have the patience to continue with this. She wanted him so much, she didn’t want to wait for the cards. She wanted to push herself out of the chair, lean across the table, and finally kiss him, taste him, tangle her hands in his hair, make him moan and gasp and see him at a loss for words for once.

A part of her had known it would end like this, had always known it, but ever since she had set foot in the cabin, she had been certain the evening would lead them here. That was why she had panicked, that was why she had cursed when she had seen her phone didn’t have reception up here on the mountain. She hadn’t been scared of a conversation, of talking about why everything felt so off between them, so different, but she had been scared of them not talking about it and ending up _here_ instead. And now they had reached this point, she wasn’t scared anymore because there was no reason to be scared. Whatever happened when she looked at her cards, whatever events were triggered by this action, she and Jane would be all right.

Slowly, because her hands were shaking, Lisbon dealt a fourth and a fifth card. Jane watched her, his gaze flickering between her hands and her face. She then put the deck to the side with a deep breath and finally picked up her cards.

It took her a few seconds to process what she was seeing because Jane, who had only glanced at his cards briefly, was staring at her, knowing full well there was no reason to delay this any longer. He just wanted to know which path they would walk down on.

“So?” she asked him, her voice only steady because it just had to produce two sounds.


	3. Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She wondered what he would taste like – bourbon and tea and smoke were the things that came to mind. His skin tasted like neither of those – it tasted of Jane. What that was she couldn’t tell because after the fifth kiss to his cheek, while she was still relishing the feeling of his stubble on her lips, he growled impatiently and bit her neck, not too hard, but enough to get her attention. She straightened her back and tightened the grip on his hair before leaning back down again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This really is the last part, I promise. So thank all of you for reading this story, and sorry again for making you wait so long for an update. I started writing this more than two months ago, and it turned out to be longer than I had planned, but finishing it convinced me I could finish my other fics as well (so except an update to Big Blue in the next couple of weeks). 
> 
> Anyway, most of this is smut, but if you want to skip that, there's a break toward the end of the chapter, so you can just read it from there.

Without a word, he showed his cards. She mirrored his movements to reveal to him he had won. A hint of disappointment flickered across his features and this time she wasn’t able to bite back a laugh. He had asked for a kiss, after all, and now that he was getting what he wanted, he had the nerve to look like he had lost.

Lisbon leaned back in her chair. “So,” she said again, but this time it wasn’t a question.

Jane leaned back as well and looked at her like she was an ice cream cone he had been looking forward to eating all day. There was no more disappointment.

“Looks like you lost,” he pointed out.

“Yes,” she confirmed “in some sense.”

“You were the one who said you could seduce me with just one kiss,” Jane reminded her.

“I didn’t say just _one_ kiss,” Lisbon pointed out.

“Shame I’m not getting more than one,” Jane said with a disappointed sigh that was obviously fake.

“Maybe you will,” she teased. After all, she didn’t yet know what would happen if she gave Jane a _real_ kiss. But she was more than ready to find out.

“You talk big,” he said. His eyes would have twinkled, she knew, had they not been filled with so much lust she didn’t know if she could stand it much longer. “And yet you keep me waiting.”

Before she could come up with a witty retort, he had popped open a button on his patterned shirt, and since one had been undone to begin with, she got a good glimpse at his chest. Under different circumstances, she would have laughed at the ridiculousness of it, but it was working. _Curse him_ , it was working. All she could do was stare at the newly exposed skin on his neck and chest and all she could think about was kissing him there.

As she pushed herself out of her chair for a third time this evening, she tried to ignore the doubt nagging at her, fighting for her attention. What if Jane still wasn’t serious about this? What if he thought she wouldn’t go through with it? What if he would pull away when she kissed him? She wasn’t sure she could handle such a rejection after this build-up. She would be so embarrassed she would have to leave right this minute, even if it meant driving through a dangerous storm.

But when she stood in front of Jane, she saw he was just as serious as she was. He wasn’t relaxed anymore, there wasn’t anything steady about his breathing. His hands were resting in his lap, but they were balled into fists, his eyes were dark, so dark that Lisbon had to remind herself they were usually bright blue. And she could see his pulse beating rapidly against the skin of his throat where the fabric of his shirt had been only a few moments ago.

Lisbon felt drunk on the power she had over him. It was an entirely new sensation because usually he was the one in charge. She wanted to see what would happen if she dared to tease him again, even though it would be incredibly hard for her to hold back. But she had learned from the best, after all.

For a third time this evening, she leaned down but she didn’t have far to go because Jane was craning his neck, anticipating the touch of her lips. Her ears were ringing, but she told herself it was the sound of the rain hitting the windows and the roof of the cabin. Her head was spinning, but she told herself it was the stale air and the smoke coming from the open fireplace. She hovered in front of his face briefly before pressing a kiss to his jaw.

He shuddered, then groaned. “Lisbon,” he said, and it sounded like a warning.

Instead of responding to the vague threat, she raised her right hand and tangled it in his curls. His hair was lighter than it had been two years ago, bleached from constant exposure to sunlight and seawater. She had noticed its shine the second he had set foot in that small conference room at the FBI. It suited him, and she had found it hard to turn her attention onto something else when all she had wanted to do was touch the bright blond curls. But now she could. And if he was getting what he wanted from this, then she wanted to see one of her long-held wishes come to life as well.

As a response, Jane’s hands found her hips and pulled her close until she was standing between his legs, pressed against him. His fingers were digging into her sides so she couldn’t pull away again before she had done what she had come here to do. But she wanted to see him squirm a little while longer, while she was still in control – because there was no doubt that once her lips touched his, she would lose all restraint – so when she leaned down, she kissed the spot on his neck behind his ear, only to be pulled closer by him. His breath was ghosting along her cheek and it was the only sound she heard, his ragged breathing, the puffs of air flowing out of his open mouth to tickle her skin, to caress it. She heard it over the sound of the rain and the crackling fire, and over the sound of her own heart beating in her chest with the force of a big bass drum.

She wondered what he would taste like – bourbon and tea and smoke were the things that came to mind. His skin tasted like neither of those – it tasted of Jane. What that was she couldn’t tell because after the fifth kiss to his cheek, while she was still relishing the feeling of his stubble on her lips, he growled impatiently and bit her neck, not too hard, but enough to get her attention. She straightened her back and tightened the grip on his hair before leaning back down again.

He did taste of bourbon. Not of tea, and definitely not of smoke. But there wasn’t much time to think about anything because as soon as her lips finally found his, he drowned her, drowned her like a tidal wave drowns a heedless swimmer, like the moon drowns out the sunlight during an eclipse, like people drown their sorrow in alcohol. Because as soon as his lips finally found hers, she felt drunk, exhilarated, intoxicated, unable to hold back, unable to focus on anything beside him, beside Jane, beside _her_ Jane.

He was all breathy moans and caressing lips, he was all firm hands and encouraging bites. How she had gone for years and years without kissing him she didn’t know. But it wasn’t important. All she cared about were his hands on her hips, his tongue in her mouth, his lip between her teeth. He kept pulling her closer, so all she could do was move forward until she was on his lap, straddling him. They didn’t break the kiss, not once, not even when she almost lost balance and he had to hold her upright so she wouldn’t crash into the table. As first kisses went, this one was the best Lisbon had ever had. But she knew better than to tell Jane that.

Chances were he already knew anyway.

When Jane finally broke the kiss, she almost pulled him back toward her right away. But then she saw the look in his eyes, and because they were so close, there was nothing else for her to focus on. She had to see the longing there, the lust, the _want_.

“Teresa,” he said, his voice barely a low whisper.

It was the first time he had used her first name since coming back from the island, its implications momentarily making them both pause. But Lisbon raised her hand to cup Jane’s cheek, to brush her thumb across the stubble there, and when he leaned into the touch, she told him.

“I know,” she said.

She wouldn’t ask him to stop, she wouldn’t ask him to talk, to explain himself, until they were both raw and hurting again. Tonight was about recapturing some of the essence of their relationship before Red John had torn them apart, before Jane had left her, and she wouldn’t be the one to put a spoke in their wheel.

His hand closed around hers and he kissed the inside of her wrist, pressed his lips against her skin to feel her rapid pulse.

“Let me make love to you, Teresa,” he whispered, his breath tickling her hand.

She drew in a sharp breath, barely disguising a sob. She wanted things easy, with no strings attached, with no repercussions. What he was offering was so much more than that, was much more than she had ever hoped to get from him. She didn’t doubt for a second he would be _making love_ to her. This would be about her, not him, about her pleasure, not his. All she needed to do was say yes.

Instead, she softly tore her hand free from his and tangled it in his hair again, kissing him again, tasting him again, unable to deal with so much raw emotion. He growled, then returned the kiss before tearing himself free to place open-mouthed kisses along her neck.

“Is that a yes?” he asked, a strain in his voice.

 _God_ , she knew how much he wanted her, and it was unbearable.

“Yes,” she replied, unable to recognize her own voice.

He gripped her firmly and stood up, eliciting a shout of surprise from her. For a second, she thought he would carry her into the bedroom like this, but he put her down on the floor instead. She made use of the new-found height difference between them and started to unbutton his shirt. He only gripped her wrists again.

“No,” he told her. “We’re going to do this my way. I won, after all.”

Lisbon bit back a groan of frustration. “You won a kiss.”

“But you wanted me to seduce you,” Jane reminded her. The way he said _seduce_ sent a shiver down her spine. “And I’m planning on doing just that.”

“Jane,” she said with a small laugh, “believe me, I’m already seduced.”

He raised an eyebrow, but it wasn’t arrogance, it was surprise she read on his face.

“Oh, don’t give me that look,” she scolded him. “Did you really think kissing me like that wouldn’t have any effect on me?”

Instead of answering her, Jane pulled her close again and kissed her, softly this time, his mouth closed. Then, “Do you want to come to bed with me?”

If he had been any other man, she would have been annoyed by his constant need for reassurance. Her sexual partners usually were much more decisive to match her own forceful nature. But he was Jane, and she was who she was, and together they could be something marvelous – or something disastrous. Every step needed to be meticulously calculated.

“Yes,” she answered again, her voice steadier now, sounding more like herself.

He took her hand into his and led her to the bedroom, and it wasn’t at all like she had imagined this would go, not after he had kissed her like it was the last time he would get to kiss her, not the first one. For a moment, a very brief one, she doubted if she had made the right choice. Maybe Jane wouldn’t be able to give her what she needed tonight, maybe the kiss had been the best part, and it would just go downhill from here. That would certainly make things very awkward.

She had many reasons to doubt Jane, so many she had lost count. But doubting whether or not he could give her all that he had promised shouldn’t be one of them. Because as soon as the bedroom door had closed behind them, even before she had been able to turn around and face him again, his lips had found her neck, and he alternated between kissing and biting her, holding her close, his fingers fumbling for the buttons on her shirt, opening one by one from bottom to top. The movements started out determined, but by the time he was done, his hands were shaking, and they were both panting.

She still had his back to him when he whispered in her ear, “You need to stop thinking for a while.”

“I haven’t been –,” she started, but he didn’t let her finish because he turned her around, his hands firmly on her shoulders, and made her take two steps back until her legs made contact with one of the two beds, and she was forced to sit down.

Jane’s hands were suddenly on her belt, unbuckling it, and she didn’t doubt him anymore, didn’t doubt he knew what he was doing and wasn’t afraid to do it. He was eager, and so was she, slipping out of her shirt and unhooking her bra while he helped her out of her trousers. That he was still completely dressed didn’t bother her, not when he ran his hands down her sides and along her legs, his fingers rough, his grip firm, not when he knelt down in front of her on the carpeted floor, not when he looked up at her from between her thighs like she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

And maybe she was.

He kissed the inside of her thighs, lightly sucked the skin there, his rough cheeks scraping against her, sending jolts of pleasure up her spine. Not even an hour ago, she had wished for exactly this, sure she would never be lucky enough to experience it. But he knew exactly what she wanted because he had read it on her face when she had kissed his cheek for the first time, thinking about feeling his stubble against her thigh. He knew exactly what she wanted, what she _needed_ , and it made this satisfying yet dangerous because once they would start down this path (and they already had), Lisbon would need him like this over and over again if she wasn’t careful.

With a strong grip, Jane hooked his thumbs into the waistband of Lisbon’s underwear and pulled. She lifted her hips to make it easier for him, even though the movement was unnecessary. Jane had nimble fingers, and it wasn’t long before she as completely naked. Before she could feel self-conscious about being this exposed, before she could spare a single thought about that topic, Jane had buried his nose in the coarse hair between her legs and breathed in deeply. Lisbon had to restrain herself from reaching out a hand and gripping his curls, so she satisfied herself with tangling her fingers into the duvet, while Jane flicked out his tongue to taste her, tentatively at first, but soon picking up speed, drinking her down like a man in the desert on the verge of dying of thirst who had come across an oasis and was now saved.

Jane had a tight grip on her, one hand holding onto her right thigh, the other onto her left hip, keeping her from bucking. He was good at this, so good he made Lisbon forget she had ever doubted him, made her forget she had ever wondered if he would live up to the promise he had given her in the living room, made her forget she had ever wondered if he cared about her at all. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been this turned on, but the way Jane was doing this for her without any reluctance, without hesitating once when she’d had boyfriends who had never done this, not a single time, made her feel desired, really and truly _wanted_ , for the first time in her life.

His tongue felt so good pressed against her, licking her, that she couldn’t help but moan loudly. But she didn’t care if someone heard her because the storm was still howling around them, and it wouldn’t have mattered if it had been quiet because as soon as the first sound left her mouth, Jane scraped his nails down her side in response, adding a soft stab of pain to the pleasure, and when she did it again, he dug his nails into her thigh and she heard him – felt him – moan against her and it was almost enough to tip her over the edge already. But she didn’t want this to be over yet, not if it might be the only time he would do this to her, so she tried to hold on desperately.

Jane, however, had other plans. He could feel how close she was (of course he could – he was Jane, after all), and he was determined to see this through, to bring her the release she was straining for. When he changed the angle slightly, she couldn’t hold back any longer and buried her hands in his curls, which made him look up at her. And in that moment she wouldn’t have needed his tongue on her; his gaze was enough to make her come undone. He didn’t mind her grip on him, didn’t mind that she pressed his face closer, and when she would later ask him about it, he would only say he was glad to have been of service.

Her vision went bright white at first, but when Jane didn’t stop moving his tongue, she was hit with wave after wave of pleasure, tightening the hold she had on him. He only pulled away once he was sure she was spent entirely and kissed her thighs softly, looking at her with so much love in his eyes she had to look away, turn her gaze toward the ceiling and breathe deeply. The after-effects of her orgasm lingered, she was trembling, slightly out of breath, and her head was spinning with the memories of Jane between her legs. Only, they weren’t just memories because when she turned her eyes back on him, he was still there, still kneeling before her, still softly kissing her thighs, and she could still feel his stubble brushing against her skin. Before she could get a grip on herself, that feeling sent another jolt of pleasure through her, so she pushed herself up and ran her hand through Jane’s hair to distract herself.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he mumbled, his breath hot against her.

“I wasn’t planning to,” she told him.

He smirked. “Well, there’s something going on in that pretty little head of yours.”

“Yes,” she agreed, then placed both her hands on his shoulders and pulled him up toward her.

He came willingly, half-standing, half-crouching in front of her, as she kissed him everywhere, on his lips, his cheeks, his jaw, his neck, until he hummed with satisfaction. Then she pushed herself off the bed, determined to change their situation. After all, he was still fully clothed. Jane seemed to have a similar idea because he was kicking off his shoes while she undid his belt and trousers, yanking everything off at once. She had waited long enough to have some fun of her own; there was no need to hold back now.

Before Jane could get any ideas about how he wanted this to go, focusing on her instead of on him, she turned them both around so they swapped positions, so he was the one closer to the bed, and started undoing the buttons on his shirt. He watched her, not offering her any help, and it wasn’t like her to be this clumsy, but she still hadn’t fully recovered from the mind-blowing orgasm and her hands were still trembling, so she lost patience quickly, and with a firm grip tore open the shirt. She could hear one of the buttons hitting the wall.

“Hey!” Jane protested, but Lisbon pushed him down onto the bed and shut him up with hot kisses, with eager hands roaming across his chest.

She couldn’t warm up to the ridiculous shirts he had grown accustomed to wearing on the island anyway.

Lisbon had wondered sometimes – not as often as she could have, but also more often than was strictly appropriate – what it would be like to see Jane like this, lying beneath her, his eyes clouded over with lust, his hair rumpled, fully naked and erect, red marks on his chest from where Lisbon had clawed at his skin without noticing. Whatever her prude Catholic mind had come up with it couldn’t compare to what she was seeing now. Without a moment’s hesitation, she straddled him, pushing herself down onto him. His eyes went wide, and his mouth flew open in a silent gasp, while she adjusted herself briefly, trying to get used to the feeling of _Jane_ filling her up like this, but she started moving slowly before she could give their situation too much thought.

Jane’s hands were on her hips, holding onto her, and he was steadying himself more than he was steadying her, but his grip only spurred her on. She usually held back more, at least during her first time with a man, but this was Jane and she had been holding back too long, for years, for decades, so there was no use pretending this wasn’t exactly what she wanted. And he wanted it too, he _liked_ it when she was in charge – he had told her so often enough, after all. She wanted to let go once, at least.

They wouldn’t talk about this in the morning anyway.

Jane wouldn’t be Jane if he wasn’t trying to gain the upper hand, at least to some extent. At first, he seemed content with being able to watch her using him for her own pleasure; yes, this was about his pleasure, but it was for her benefit as well. She was gaining as much from this as he was because as much as he liked watching her, she also like watching him, and having Jane pinned beneath her, panting, his hips thrusting in a steady rhythm attuned to hers, made it hard for her to focus on the task at hand. Lisbon already felt on the verge of being overwhelmed, but then Jane moved his right hand from her hip to softly brush his thumb over her clit, and it was too much. She bit her lip, trying to hold back a moan, as she closed her eyes, engulfed in pure bliss.

For a short while, she let herself go, focused on her own pleasure, her world narrowing down to Jane’s finger, his hands she had admired so often, and to him _inside_ of her, until she was so close again she knew she would come in a matter of seconds if she let him continue like this. So, with all her strength, she gripped his wrists and pushed his arms down until she had both his hands pinned next to his head against the pillow. She wanted him to think about his own pleasure, not hers.

“No,” she told him firmly and began to move faster.

A guttural sound vibrated through him, around them, as he tangled his hands with hers and let himself be restrained by her. She adjusted his hold on him, so it was firmer, and bent down to kiss his neck. There was no denying it – she liked having him like this, at her mercy, able to suck the skin above his collarbone into her mouth and worry it with her teeth until he moaned loudly, able to kiss his beautiful mouth and swallow his cries, able to determine the pace at which they were going. All of this had an effect on her as well, of course, but it had always been like this. He couldn’t feel pain without her feeling it too, he was happier when she was happy, so it was only natural that whatever brought him pleasure would also be satisfying to her.

It didn’t take long for him to find release, not when she was holding him down like this. There was just enough time left for him to breathe, “Fuck, Teresa,” before he bit down on her left arm, eliciting a gasp from her that turned into a moan. Whether it was hearing him say these two words in a gruff tone of voice, whether it was the pain in her arm or whether it was the feeling of him spilling inside of her, she couldn’t tell. All she knew was that she needed to come immediately, or she would implode. Without a second thought, she let go of him and touched herself, while he watched her, watched her hand moving between her legs, and he had to know by now what his gaze did to her because it didn’t take long for her to come a second time, accompanied by a throaty moan, before she collapsed on him, sticky and exhausted, but completely sated.

* * *

The first thing Lisbon noticed the next morning was the arm that lay slung across her chest, weighing her down. It wasn’t her arm, that much she could tell, even while she was still half asleep, but she couldn’t explain its presence. Not until she opened her eyes to see to whom the arm belonged. Finally, she found Jane at its other end, fast asleep. And it wasn’t just his arm. Now that she was almost fully awake, she noticed his leg, too, was slung across her possessively, and _something_ was pressing against her hip.

He was naked.

They both were.

It wasn’t supposed to go like this. They were supposed to have fun with each other, flirt a little, kiss, maybe even have meaningless sex. But they certainly weren’t supposed to fall asleep in each other’s arms and wake up the next morning … like _this_. Lisbon tried not to panic and wake Jane up because she needed to come to terms with what was happening on her own before she could face him. So she closed her eyes again and breathed in deeply, relaxing against him. This didn’t feel so bad after all. As a response, he tightened his grip on her, but didn’t wake up. She supposed he needed rest. Which gave her more time to think about this.

She had wanted them to go back to being friends, to it feeling like it had done before he had left. But they had gone too far, pushed themselves, until they had crossed a line Lisbon had been sure was uncrossable. And she had gone along with it willingly, initiated it even, and hadn’t stopped when it had become apparent Jane didn’t just want to have a one-night stand. Lisbon had had enough of those in her life to know the difference. She had been okay with it the previous night when he had been between her legs, licking –

The memory made her shudder. She also didn’t want this to have been just a one-time thing, but it was too complicated. Much too complicated. Jane was too unpredictable for a steady relationship, too independent. And so was she. If they tried something along those lines, it would only lead to heartbreak. That didn’t change the fact she wanted there to be more. One taste and she was addicted to him, addicted to the feeling of him inside her, addicted to the way he kissed her, all-consuming, addicted to how she could make him moan, addicted to how she could control him with a few small touches.

No, the sex had definitely not been meaningless. And she had to come to terms with how much she wanted to roll over and kiss him awake, to initiate something, to rekindle the spark form last night. This time, she wanted to feel his fingers on her, inside of her. And she wanted to talk; she wanted to at least tell him how she felt about him.

But did he want to hear it?

“If you think any louder, you’ll wake up the entire neighborhood,” Jane mumbled, then yawned.

He pulled her even closer and buried his face in her neck.

“Morning,” she replied. It sounded stiff.

He wasn’t fully awake yet; that was the reason why he wasn’t pushing her away.

“Morning, Teresa,” he said, pressing a soft kiss against her neck.

She untangled their limbs and turned around to face him, putting some space between them as a consequence, which made Jane open his eyes fully and look at her.

“Is everything all right?” he asked her.

“No,” she replied earnestly. “Jane, what are we doing?”

“Hm,” he made. “I was worried this might be a problem.”

But before she could snap at him or groan in frustration, he pulled her close again and kissed her tightly pinched lips until she melted against him, sighing happily. Her body was definitely not listening to her mind.

“I thought …,” she started once she could breathe again, “… we wouldn’t talk about it.”

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he agreed, trailing open-mouthed kisses down her neck.

“Jane,” she said, but it sounded weak.

If he wanted her again, she wasn’t sure she could resist him.

Then there was a hand on her upper thigh, stroking her, moving steadily higher. For a moment, she wanted to let him, wanted nothing more than to feel his fingers on her, but if they were doing this, if this was what Jane wanted, they needed to clear the air first.

“Stop,” she said firmly.

She didn’t need to restrain him because he followed her order immediately.

“Lisbon?” he asked, sounding unsure.

Having him lying next to her with rumpled hair, bedroom eyes, a hickey on his neck made what she had to say that much harder. “I thought it would be a one-time thing.”

 _Please tell me this isn’t what you want_ , she added silently, feeling desperate.

For a very brief moment, his eyes displayed how hurt he felt. But he recovered himself quickly and sat up, putting some space between them. “Yes. If that’s what you want.”

“No,” she said in the same firm voice she had used before, sitting up as well. “I want you to tell me what _you_ want, for a change.”

He wanted to run, she could tell by the way his body grew rigid. But if he wanted to touch her again, he needed to be honest with her. She refused to put her heart on the line only for him to break it again, like he had done so many times before.

She could never have anticipated what came next.

“I love you, Teresa.”

She swallowed hard and blinked. “If you’re just saying that –”

He raised a hand. “Let me stop you right there,” he interrupted. “I mean it. Have meant it for years, even though I’ve never said it.”

 _Except once_ , they both added in silence.

“So if you ask me what I want, you need to know that everything I could possibly tell you is connected to the fact that I’m in love with you.”

Lisbon nodded because she didn’t trust her voice. She nodded because if she had said something, her voice would have been drowned out by how deafeningly loud her heart was beating.

Jane blinked slowly, waiting for her to say something, anything, but when she didn’t, he took a deep breath. “I love you, Teresa Lisbon,” he said again. “I’ve been in love with you for years, ever since you woke up wearing that bomb vest. Well, since before that, actually. But that was when I realized I couldn’t lose you. So I tried to ignore those feelings because,” he laughed coldly, “because if Red John ever knew … He figured it out, of course, but by then it was too late. I couldn’t keep away from you anymore, just like you kept coming back to me, no matter how much I hurt you.”

He had a pained expression on his face, reminiscent of all the times she had tried to convince him not to go after Red John, and she couldn’t bear it anymore, not when their past was dead and gone. She leaned forward, brushing her thumb over his cheek, and kissed him softly because she finally could. After an eternity of wishing she could comfort him like this, she finally could. She could feel him smile against her lips, but he was also the one to pull away.

“So when you ask me what _I_ want, there’s really just one answer I can give you,” he said with a shrug as if it didn’t mean much, as if he hadn’t just bared his whole heart to her, revealing each and every clandestine nook to her. “I don’t want this to have been just a one-time thing. I want to repeat this every day for the rest of our lives. I want to know I can kiss you whenever I want to, I want to know I can see you again and again like I saw you last night, I want to make up for all the missed opportunities, I want to …” But he found himself unable to finish the sentence, so he changed direction. “If you don’t want any of that, if you want this to be a one-time thing, I can understand that. And if I misread anything we did in here, then I’m sorry. But a small part of me hopes you might want the same things.”

Lisbon climbed out of the bed, forgetting she was naked, and walked over to the small window to look outside at the bare mountaintop that suddenly didn’t look as bleak and miserable as it had done in the rain. The sun was shining now, reflecting off the surface of the small lake. White clouds were chasing across the sky, driven by a strong east wind. A small group of hikers, backpacks on their shoulders, sensible shoes on their feet, vanished behind a rock formation, and she watched until the last one of them was out of sight.

Jane was offering her everything she had ever wished for. Then why was she hesitating? Why wasn’t she throwing her arms around him, telling him she loved him too, telling him she wanted to be with him, and finally put the past behind them. Maybe it was because she knew he wouldn’t understand it if she rejected him. Maybe it was because she didn’t fully believe he was sincere. Maybe it was because he had hurt her often enough with his unpredictable, mercurial moods, and she knew the next heartbreak was just around the corner.

They should have talked about this before taking the next step in their relationship.

“Why did you leave?” she asked him.

She heard the sheets rustling, but he didn’t come to join her by the window. “I had no choice.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me how you felt?” she asked, her voice angry, but she didn’t feel this anger, not really. “Had I known, I would’ve come with you.”

“Really?” Now he sounded as if he thought she was lying.

Lisbon considered it. “Yes,” she answered before turning around to find him sitting on the edge of the bed.

“I don’t believe you.” It sounded cruel, but she desperately hoped he didn’t mean it like that. “You would have rejected me, Teresa.” He smiled sadly. “That’s why I never said anything. Because you would have rejected me.”

“How do you know that?” she asked.

“You should have rejected me, the way I kept treating you,” Jane reminded her.

Some things would never change. She had to get used to that. But she would be damned if she didn’t try to change them with all she had. “No.”

She walked over to the bed, determined not to let the past come between them again, and pushed against Jane’s shoulders until he was lying down. Then she straddled him like she had done the previous night, like she wanted to do for years to come, pinning his hands over his head, and kissed him, kissed this infuriating, irritating man who was unbelievably shortsighted for someone so intelligent, this man who was offering to be with her for the rest of her life, who had saved her more times than she could remember, whom she owed everything to, and who still didn’t think he deserved her. Jane made a sound of surprised protest, but kissed Lisbon back desperately, as if he was counting on this to be their last kiss and he was determined to commit every detail of it to memory.

Lisbon pulled back first. “If you say something like that ever again, I’ll leave you. I mean it.”

Jane beamed up at her and he looked ten years younger than he was. “So it wasn’t just a one-time thing?”

Lisbon huffed, and settled herself comfortably on Jane’s chest, letting go of his hands. He immediately reached up to comb his fingers through her hair and she relaxed completely. There was so much they hadn’t done yet, so much she wanted to experience with him.

“I love you too, you idiot,” she mumbled against his heartbeat.

Silence filled the air around them. She knew he was crying, felt it in the way his chest heaved, but when she looked up at him, he met her gaze with another dazzling smile.

“But I’m angry with you for making me wait this long,” she sighed and settled back down, once she had made sure he would be all right.

“That’ll only give me the excuse to make it up to you,” he pointed out. “How does breakfast in bed sound to you?”

“What kind of breakfast did you have in mind?” she asked cockily.

His ringing laughter filled the entire room, filled her up from head to toe, made her feel light-headed, delirious even.

“I was planning on stealing some from our gracious host, but if you have something else in mind, I’m listening,” he answered.

It wouldn’t always be like this, and she would be a fool to believe otherwise. There would be more fights than she could count. He would be stubborn and secretive and shut her out again. She would be hurt and heartbroken and just as stubborn. But there were so many things she looked forward to she pushed all her fears from her mind for now. Because she knew that, no matter how dark things got, they would be all right. Because Patrick Jane loved her.

In the end, there was just one concern left.

“If you should ever disappear without telling me where you’re going, if you ever make me worry you’re lying dead in a ditch somewhere, I will send Cho to kill you,” she promised.

“Why Cho?” he asked curiously.

“Because you’re not scared of me, but I know you’re very scared of Cho,” she pointed out.

“Hm,” he made. “You’ve got a point.” He rolled them over, so they were both lying on their sides. “I’m going to take a shower now,” he told her slowly. “I’ll be right next door, so there’s no need to call him just yet, no need for you to worry.” He paused briefly, then leaned forward to whisper in her hear, “Unless you want to join me.” Then he raised an eyebrow suggestively.

“I thought you’d never ask,” she said with a coy smile.

Again, he stared at her in surprise.

“Jane,” she said warningly. He really needed to stop doing that.

“I know, I know, no more looking surprised,” he mumbled quickly.

It was a good thing they had rented the cabin for two nights, Lisbon thought, as she found herself trapped against the wall of the shower with Jane’s fingers inside of her and his mouth next to her ear, muttering hot words of encouragement. Because there was no way they were leaving this mountain today.


End file.
